LELIA. 347 



With gentle step, with timid air and gait, 

 Aza, the Christian slave, does meekly wait; 

 A half-blown lily, drooping in the shower, 



The maiden stands, within the myrtle bower ; 100 



With dove-like eyes, and soft Madonna grace, 

 A heaven seems shrined within the Christian's face ; 

 Most purely fair was Aza's cheek and brow ; 

 With voice like distant music, soft and low. 



No sullen tear, no sign of discontent, 105 



Showed murmuring at the lot her God had sent. 

 She had no home, no friend but Him above, 

 Not one on earth to fear, not one to love. 

 The eagle's beak had torn her native home, 



And all was gone she once could call her own. 110 



Ruin and woe, the dungeon and the grave, 

 Were doom'd to all who Caesar dared to brave : 

 Yet Aza dared herself a Christian call, 

 And worshipp'd God within the Flavian hall ; 



Not like the Pharisee, in proud array 115 



Who bends his knee, that men may see him pray 

 Her orisons were made when none might hear ; 

 Her vows were breathed when God alone was near ; 

 And in her life and in her actions shone 

 A purity that springs from Christ alone. 120 



O God ! thou givest a portion of thy love 

 To Christian hearts, that they Thy faith may prove. 

 Thou breath'st into their soul Thine essence, Lord ! 

 To show mankind the beauty of Thy word : 



Midst woe and grief, and in the pangs of death, 125 



Thy spirit, Lord, employs the Christian's breath ! 



Aza the slave, though spurn'd, though shunn'd by all, 

 Though made to feel the weight of slavery's thrall, 

 Though laugh'd at, scorn'd, and made a common sport, 

 In Christian faith found comfort and support. 130 



Though thought too vile to breathe the common air 

 Too vile the very crimes of slaves to share, 

 She found that God was watching o'er her path, 

 To save her from the storm of heathen wrath ; 



That His protecting love was round her spread, 135 



To smooth the rugged road she had to tread, 

 To make her life, though robb'd of freedom's light, 

 A shadow of His grace and saving might. 



Her gentleness, her skill, her modest grace, 



The meek submission shining in her face, 140 



Soon won their way to noble Lelia's heart, 

 Who placed her from the menial train apart, 

 And, when upon her couch, would call her near, 

 And sorrowing weep, her hapless fate to hear ; 



Would wonder what could be the Christian's faith, 145 



That thus consign'd its votaries to death. 

 Aza would tell her, of her young hopes riven, 

 How all her friends had died to merit heaven ; 

 How not a trace was left by sword and fire, 



Of that loved home where dwelt her aged sire ; 150 



How she had lived, and with what fond regret 

 She still look'd back on things she should forget ; 



